


Things You Forget to Bequeath

by thecarlysutra



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: But not for sex, Cordelia Chase wears the pants around here, For other things, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Really Angel is taking his off, Season/Series 01, Team as Family, just read the damn story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-09
Updated: 2007-11-09
Packaged: 2017-10-12 17:17:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/127172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecarlysutra/pseuds/thecarlysutra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Losing Doyle means more than grief.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things You Forget to Bequeath

  
Doyle is dead. It's hard, and Angel would love to completely forget it, but every now and then some mundane activity pops up that forces him to deal with this new reality.

"Um, Cordelia."

Cordelia is mostly not listening. She's mostly not working, too, sitting at her desk and filing her nails, reading In Style, spinning aimlessly in her chair. "Hmm?"

Still, the reason she didn't hear him could be because he's having difficulty raising his voice above a mumble.

Angel shuffles. "Cordelia, I, um . . . never mind."

Her brow shoots up. "That was a convincing performance. Wanna try again?"

"No, it's not a big—I mean, it'll sort itself out, so I'll just—"

But now she's standing, and in a matter of seconds she's cornered him, all the presence of a five-ton keinyx demon resting in her expensive, patent leather pumps. Angel shrinks against the wall.

"What is it?"

"Nothing." Her expression makes it clear that she doesn't believe this. "I just—got a little nick. You know, cleaning out that nest. But it's—"

Cordelia ignores the rest of his _oh, it's nothing to worry about spiel_ and retrieves the first aid kit. She pops it open and starts unpacking bandages, scissors, and tape onto her desk.

"Let's see it."

"It's just—"

Cordelia's eyes leave Angel's pleading face. She surveys his body for injury, notices the way he's standing, all his weight on one leg.

"Hurt your leg?"

Angel frowns. "It's—"

"If you say it's nothing, you're going to have other injuries very soon."

"Stake to the back of the knee. I can't . . . I can't really reach it . . ."

Cordelia's brow goes up again. "You're embarrassed to drop trou in front of me? Eventually, you're going to get hurt somewhere below the belt; what did you think was going to happen?"

Angel's voice is very quiet. "It's not like it's never happened. Before, Doyle—"

Cordelia's face softens. "We're family, dumbass. You don't have to hide things from me; a family takes care of each other." Angel starts to smile, but Cordelia catches on something. "Wait. This could sort itself out? What were you going to do, just sit around until you bled to death?"

"I'm a vampire. Super quick healing, remember? I wouldn't bleed to death—"

Cordelia rolls her eyes, and starts unrolling gauze. "I don't know how you ever survived on your own. Seriously."  



End file.
